Aurea Lupus
by Cliara Aedai
Summary: Set in GoF. What if Harry was hurt right before the Triwizard Cup reached him and Cedric's body? Follow Harry as he struggles to deal with being a werewolf through the rest of his years at Hogwarts. No slash, cannon pairings, follows the books
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Ok, so this is a 'Harry Potter is turned into a werewolf' fic. No Slash, no weird parenting realisations, and no pairings. It is basically going to closely follow the books, with some small changes and challenges. I have plenty of time to work on this, so review and I will write! Anything in italics and underlined is from the book. This chapter is very similar to the one in the book with only a few changes, but it is necessary to set up the story. Enjoy! – And this chapter may be reloaded if a possible beta responds-**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.**

Starts on page 580 – 

"_Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" shrieked Voldemort._

_Harry's hand had closed on Cedric's wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, but Cedric was too heavy to carry and the Cup was out of reach – _

_Voldemort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand._

"_Accio!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup._

_It flew into the air, and soared towards him – Harry caught it by the handle – _

_He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment as he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked__ – _he felt a sudden stab of intensifying pain in his injured leg that caused him to cry out in agony – but the whirl of wind and colour drowned out his cries…they were going back…

Harry felt himself slam heavily into the ground. His senses were not working however, blinded by the sheer agony coming from his leg. He tried to remember what happened to cause such pain, but his thoughts were only centred on one horrifying realisation…

_Cedric is dead….Cedric is dead…._

He scrunched his face against the soft ground, only part realising it was grass. He paid no attention to the screams around him, the noise lost in his frantic, pain clouded mind. He had not yet moved, too afraid of what it would mean. Everyone was going to hate him, he killed Cedric, and to move would mean facing that reality. His head swam dangerously and he cried out as another pain shot through his leg. It felt as though it was on fire, and he was only dimly aware that this was caused by something much worse than the spider. He tightened his hold on the Cup and Cedric, hoping to brace himself against the agony.

_Cedric is dead….Cedric is dead…._

His scar was burning too; giving him such a headache… he couldn't focus on any one thing…. He hoped something would happen soon, that someone would do something – he couldn't stand the emotional or physical pain anymore.

Suddenly a strong pair of hands grabbed his shoulders roughly, turning him over. He only barely managed to hold in his cry, instead trying to focus on the eyes above him. He was dimly aware that his name was being shouted, and knew that people were starting to gather around him. Dark spots clouded his vision, but he didn't want to give in – he was too afraid.

He could hear Dumbledore talking to him, reassuring him that everything was going to be alright, but he didn't know yet. Dumbledore didn't know. And so with all the strength he could muster, he gripped onto Dumbledore's wrist.

"He's back," Harry whispered "He's back. Voldemort."

He saw the horrified look in the Headmaster's eyes before he could no longer bear to concentrate so much. Relaxing his grip on Dumbledore's wrist, he let a tear run down his cheek at the amount of pain he was in.

Harry could feel his fight for consciousness drifting. He felt someone take Cedric from his grip, and panicked at the loss, but Dumbledore calmed him down with soothing words. He also noticed that the pain was starting to change. It was still there, and as agonising as ever, but his ties to it were drifting. He knew this was a bad sign. Desperately trying to keep himself awake, he wrenched open his eyes that had at some point drifted closed and looked at what was happening around him. Fudge, it seemed was arguing with Dumbledore and addressing the people frantically gathering. He saw Cedric's parents break down in anguish at the sight of their son's body and he wanted to comfort them…apologise to them. But his body was heavier than lead. Dumbledore's face then appeared in his vision and he heard three, strong words come from the elder's mouth.

"Stay here, Harry."

And then he had left, and all Harry could hear were the screams of people around him. He tried to cover his ears from the noise, sink further into the grass he was laying on. But it wasn't working, and he began to panic, the pains and noises further confusing his mind.

"Come on Harry, let's get you out of here." A voice said, and Harry hoped it was Dumbledore. He wrenched open his eyes, expecting to see blue ones staring back at him, but it wasn't Dumbledore at all, it was Moody. He weakly protested at his Professor's actions to lift him off the ground, slurring that the Headmaster had told him to stay, but the agony the movement had caused made him bite down on his lip in an effort not to scream.

He let Moody carry him through the crowds, and away from all the screaming and sobbing. He was concentrating very hard on not showing his Professor how much his leg was hurting him, and trying desperately to stop his head from swaying. He didn't notice where they were going until they reached a wooden door inside the castle, which led into Moody's office. He let Moody lay him down on a soft couch and relished in the peace and quiet. He could feel himself falling asleep, giving in to the fog in his mind, when a beaker was pushed gently against his mouth. He opened his eyes again, before quickly drinking the peppery potion. Moody's office came into sharper focus, as did Moody himself. He also noticed that while still very much present, the pain in his leg wasn't as overpowering. He could think clearer, and the confusion in his mind was gone.

"What happened, Harry? Moody asked quietly.

"The Cup was a Portkey… It took Cedric and me to a graveyard. They killed Cedric, and then Voldemort drank a potion that made him… gave him a body."

Moody didn't seem at all surprised about his explanation, and Harry felt an inkling of suspicion rise within him.

"He's back then? The Dark Lord is definitely back?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yes, he is."

"And the Death Eaters? How did he treat them? "

Harry didn't answer right away, wondering why he was asked such a question.

"Sir, I don't mean to be rude, but why do you care?"

The silence that met him was deadly and thick.

"Why do I care?" Moody whispered menacingly "Why do I care! Because those scum that consider themselves His followers betrayed him! Ignored Him when He needed our loyalty the most. They are pathetic, too afraid to even brave time in Azkaban for our Master. Did he punish them? Oh, tell me he punished them!" Moody's face was now centimetres from Harry's face, and he was breathing heavily. Harry was horrified. Moody, Dumbledore's friend, the famous Auror… It made no sense, and yet…

"You put my name into the Cup! You turned it into a Portkey…. It was you all along!"

"Ahhh. It seems you have caught on Mr Potter. I, the Dark Lord's most faithful servant, am responsible for it all. Now tell me, did he punish them!" He growled loudly, his eye dancing around at a remarkable speed.

"No," he spat "he forgave them all. He was too weak, hasn't enough followers to punish those who ignored him!"

Moody yelled loudly "Don't you dare insult Him! It is only luck that has brought you this far, but your journey ends tonight. I will kill you in honour of my master…I, his most faithful Death Eater. I will end you, Harry Potter!"

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth, and Harry made to duck out of the way of the deadly spell–

"Stupefy!" There was a sudden, blinding flash of red light, and Moody fell back onto the wooden table, splintering it as he impacted. Harry looked up to see who had cast the spell, and almost cried in relief to see Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently. Harry nodded.

"Professor, it was Moody! He was the one all along! It was his fault…" Harry finished quietly.

"No, Harry, it was not Moody. This is not the real Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight and safety tonight. The moment I saw he had taken you, I realised my mistakes and followed. Severus, would you please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess. Minerva, if you would please take Harry to my office, there is someone waiting to meet him."

Harry's eyes grew confused at that statement, but decided it was best not to question his Headmaster, he was obviously upset. Professor McGonagall, noticing the boy's pale face and injured arm and leg was unhappy that their destination was not the hospital wing but obeyed his orders regardless.

"Come, Harry." She said gently, helping the injured boy stand. The pain in his leg made itself known again, but Harry ignored it. They silently made their way up to Dumbledore's office, Harry panting with the effort. McGonagall pursed her lips, immensely worried about his state of health. They reached the stone gargoyle, to which McGonagall muttered the password, and the two made their way up the moving staircase, pushing open the oak door.

Beside the desk sat a very large, black dog.

"Snuffles." Harry breathed. McGonagall looked at him in question but he shook his head. She sighed softly and helped him to a cushioned chair, looking at the dog suspiciously every few moments.

"Thank you, Professor, for helping me. I will wait here for Professor Dumbledore; I doubt he will take too long." Harry whispered. McGonagall nodded, and with a small smile, left the office.

Harry looked back around to where the dog had been sitting only to find Sirius standing before him, worry and distress evident upon his face.

"Harry! What happened?" Harry tried to find words, tried to tell him the horrific things he had seen, but only managed a sob. He buried his face in his dirtied hands and released all the emotion he had bottled inside. Sirius rushed over to him, gently pulling his godson into a warm embrace, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he cried. Harry cried for Cedric, for his parents, for the torture he had endured. He cried for the horrific memories the third challenge had left him with. He cried for Voldemort's return and the destruction that would undoubtedly rise in the near future. He cried for everything that had happened, and all that he had lost. Sirius let him ruin his shirt with salty tears, his own sometimes joining. He didn't know what had happened yet, and the knowledge that whatever had happened was making his strong godson cry placed fear in his heart. It had also not gone unnoticed by the man that Harry was hurt, but it seemed that his emotional pain was far stronger than his physical at that moment.

It was around ten minutes before the traumatised teen finally calmed down, but he stayed in his godfather's embrace. He felt safe there, something he had not felt for a very long time. Harry heard the door open, and recognised the calm, calculated steps as the Headmaster's. Harry looked up, ashamed at the scene he had walked in on.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of Harry. You are a very strong individual, but no one can survive if all their emotions stay bottled up. I am very proud of you tonight, my boy, for you have far exceeded any of my expectations. Well done Harry."

Harry smiled slightly at the praise, but his heart still ached.

"And I know you are not going to wish to, but I must ask that you recount everything that you have experienced tonight. You can do it, Harry, I believe you can."

And with a great sigh, Harry began to tell them everything that had happened. He told them about the third task, how the Cup was a Portkey, how Cedric was murdered for simply being there. He knew as he spoke of the murder that guilt was lacing his voice, but no one acknowledged it yet. He spoke of his arm being pierced by the dagger, showed where he had been cut. He told them everything about the resurrection, and how he was forced to battle. He told them of the odd connection that happened between his and Voldemort's wand. Dumbledore explained it to Harry, though he understood none of it and decided he would ask again later, when he was less tired. After at least fifteen minutes of talking, he was finally reaching the end of his tale, much to his relief. He explained how he grabbed Cedric's body but couldn't reach the Cup as he lay on the ground.

"So I summoned it, and it was soaring towards me. I remember feeling relief all of a sudden, knowing that it was going to bring us back. I saw Voldemort behind me, too far to do anything. And then…. Well I don't really understand. My leg, the already injured one, suddenly burned and I could feel some sort of pressure, intensifying the agony, but then the Cup reached us and the pressure was gone. We swirled around and landed back on Hogwarts grounds. The pain won't leave though, so I think I might have to ask Madame Pomfrey for a potion."

Harry sighed in relief as he finished his recount, and looked up for the first time since he began. But what he saw was very different to what he expected. Dumbledore had stood up and was making his way towards Harry, fear on his face. Harry scrunched his face in confusion, and looked towards his godfather. Sirius was smiling reassuringly, though worry was evident in his eyes too.

"What-"

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted "may I see your leg please?"

"Um… Sure, sir." He allowed Dumbledore to bend down and gently vanish part of his trousers. There was no movement for some time and Harry began to worry about his Professor. Sirius made an impatient sound.

"Harry, I think we should go to the hospital wing. Sirius, if you would accompany us as Snuffles."

Sirius shook his head. "No, not until you tell me what is wrong with my godson." He said calmly, negotiating with his mentor.

Dumbledore sighed in resignation, before answering slowly. "Do not be alarmed, but it seems Harry has been bitten by a werewolf. Fenir Greyback, if I am not mistaken."

**Review please! Next chapter is almost finished :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N ****This is a bit of a filler chapter to see if anyone is interested. At the moment, interest isn't high, so if you like it and want me to continue, please review! And thanks to Abigaya Moreel for being an awesome beta! **

**Disclaimer: **** I do not own Harry Potter**

Despite Dumbledore's warning to not panic, Sirius was horrified and alarmed. The knowledge that his godson had gone through so much and seen such horrendous things that evening was bad enough, but the added implication of being bitten by a werewolf was too much for Sirius.

"He's been WHAT?" he yelled loudly into the headmasters face, not noticing Harry flinch at the loud noise. He was desperately hoping that he had heard wrong, or that the headmaster had been mistaken, not able to bear the thought of Harry dealing with more than he had already been forced to.

"Sirius, I know that you heard me perfectly clear. Harry has been bitten by a werewolf and needs medical attention. Now please, if only for your godson's sake, calm down so that we may proceed to the hospital wing." At Dumbledore's words, Sirius glanced down at his godson who was still seated on the chair. His face pale and gaunt, Sirius recognized the symptoms of shock starting to show on Harry. He bent down slowly, this time aware of what sudden movements would do to his condition, and took Harry's shaking hand within his own.

"Harry, we are going to go and see Madame Pomfrey now, are you able to walk or would you prefer I carry you?"

The frightened teen at first seemed to not hear his godfather, and his eyes remained staring at the same spot in the wall. But as Sirius bent down to lift him in his arms, he rapidly shook his head and began to rise to his feet. Arms braced against the chair, he stood up slowly, face contorting in pain as he did so. It took all the restraint Sirius had to not reach over pull his godson into a hug, where he could protect him from farther harm. But realizing this was not beneficial to Harry in the slightest, he compromised by supporting Harry's weight.

As they walked out of the headmaster's office, Harry could feel the adrenalin he had previously been relying on start to disappear. Every step he took sent waves of pain right up his leg and through his torso, and his head felt too heavy to support. He knew he was relying on his godfather, and most of his weight was being carried by him, and for some reason, that made him feel safe. But as they neared the staircase Harry knew he couldn't push his body much further. His feet were dragging and he was stumbling every few steps.

"Sirius, I can't walk anymore-" he began to gasp, but was cut off when his legs suddenly gave way and he collapsed to the floor. The impact was thankfully lightened by Sirius' arms, but he still could not hold in his cry of agony. He looked up, embarrassed, to see Dumbledore on his knees and his concerned eyes boring into him.

"I am sorry, Professor." Harry whispered hoarsely.

"It is quite alright, Harry. As I have said before, you have been through too much tonight, and it was only a matter of time before your body gave up. I must now insist though that you allow Sirius to carry you the rest of the way." Harry weakly nodded at his request, and did not struggle against the strong arms embracing him. Rather, he was quite thankful for the comfort they brought.

The rest of the walk to the hospital wing was spent in silence and Harry found himself fighting to keep his eyes open. Sleep was so close, but he was afraid to give in. He knew there would be nightmares waiting for him, and he was not sure he could deal with them. After wrestling his eyes back open for the third time, he saw Dumbledore push open the hospital wing doors and knew that they had arrived at their destination. Sleep making his mind hazy, Harry did not concentrate on who was in the large room, instead focusing on the huge bed he was being carried to. He mumbled a quiet thank you to Sirius as he lay him down on the soft mattress. Sleep was slowly claiming Harry, and he was no longer fighting the waves of fatigue. He could faintly hear arguing in the distance, and was sure he recognized the voice of Molly Weasley along with several cries of 'Sirius Black', but he was not lucid enough to be sure. However it was not long before he was woken from his state of rest and peace when someone touched his leg and he cried out in painful surprise.

"Sorry Mr Potter, but I need to examine your leg and then I will give you a Dreamless Sleep Potion." Madame Pomfrey said softly and comfortingly. Harry clenched his teeth together and nodded.

The next twenty minutes was spent by Madame Pomfrey examining and treating his wounds, with her main concern being the wolf bite on his leg. Harry tried to hold back his cries of pain as much as he could, but there were some times when he simply couldn't. Sometime during the examination, Harry became aware of Mrs Weasley next to him. At first he denied her comfort, insisting he was fine, but many cries later he was welcoming her soothing touch and comforting words. He couldn't remember his mother comforting him, though he knew she had, and was (you could put something here to finish the sentence sweetly like: and was watching over him)

"There you go Mr Potter, I am finished for now. There is a dreamless sleep potion on the bench beside you, which I suggest you use when you are ready. And please do not hesitate to call for me if you need anything."

Madame Pomfrey walked away slowly towards her office and Harry allowed himself a soft sigh of relief. The pain was almost gone, and for that he was exceptionally grateful. He hesitantly looked over to the people surrounding his bed. Ron was sitting on a chair, attempting to be strong after witnessing his best friend's pain. Harry gave him a small smile of gratitude before looking at Hermione. She had made no effort to hide her tears during the examination and still had them running down her face. Harry felt terrible for making her witness that, but knew she would accept no apology. He also gave her a small smile.

Sirius was sitting on one side of him, looking horrified at the scene that had just taken place. But he remained there for Harry despite his instincts telling him to run and scream and yell at his godson's pain. And for that, Harry was grateful.

Mrs Weasley was sitting beside him too, flashing nervous glancing to Sirius every few seconds, continuing to rub soothing circles on the back of Harry's hand. Every now and then she would hum softly and the tune made Harry even drowsier than he had been before. Seeing this, Mrs Weasley urged him to lay down and take the potion. Seeing no valuable reason to argue against the sensible suggestion, Harry cautiously relaxed against the pillows and gulped a few mouthfuls of the potion. It wasn't long before his mind went blank and sleep claimed him.

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><p>Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed when he next opened his eyes. Sirius was asleep next to him, slumped over in his chair and Mrs Weasley, Hermione and Ron had left, most likely to get some rest. But it was the presence on the other side of him, where Mrs Weasley had sat that startled Harry. It was Remus Lupin.<p>

As far as Harry could tell, Remus was looking healthier than normal. His robes were still old and tatty but he didn't look pale are exhausted. Deep in sleep, he seemed relaxed and peaceful, and Harry quickly decided against disturbing him.

Harry took the time alone in silence to reflect upon the events he had just experienced. Thinking of Cedric was too painful, and he knew he had failed by letting Voldemort return. There was no more to it.

But there was plenty to think about regarding the injury on his leg. When Dumbledore had first said he had been bitten by a werewolf, he hadn't known what to think. Part of him was repulsed, another terrified. But he also felt incredible dread, dread at what consequences were going to arise because of it. Now, lying in the hospital bed, he felt no pain at all, but he was exceedingly terrified.

Harry felt his breathing speed up and fought with himself to calm down. Panicking was a form of weakness and something he refused to do. But not matter what he did; he couldn't stop the occasional tear from escaping. It was all just too much for him. He hadn't even noticed Lupin wake up until he felt him hug him, and he accepted the comfort willingly. The arms encircling him were warm and safe, seemingly absorbing all the pain and sorrow as he cried. After a short while, Harry had calmed down again and was pointedly staring at his crisp bed sheets. Only one of Remus's arms stayed around Harry, grounding him and providing steady reassurance. Harry was trying to avoid the conversation he knew was coming, not eager to further discuss anything. He sat in silence as he fiddled with the sheets, hoping Remus would let him be. His hopes were not granted though.

"Harry? Would you mind if we had a small chat?" Harry mentally sighed but nodded in consent, understanding he didn't really have a choice. His father's friend was never one to let things go unsaid.

"Alright. Now I know this may be difficult to hear, but Madame Pomfrey is positive in her conclusion that the bite you sustained was in fact caused by a werewolf." Lupin's voice became strained. "And you are now going to have to deal with becoming a werewolf once a month. I am so sorry Harry."

It was clear to Harry that Lupin, also being a werewolf, was extremely distressed that it had happened and Harry appreciated him being there for him. But that didn't mean that the news was accepted any easier, and Harry soon found himself fighting tears again.

"I promise, Harry, that I am going to make this as easy as possible for you. I will be there for every one of your transformations and you can come to me for anything. And after the full moons, when you feel ill, your friends will be there to comfort you."

Harry listened closely to his reassurances, questions suddenly bubbling up out of nowhere and refusing to be ignored.

"Professor Lupin? What about at Hogwarts? And during the summer at the Dursley's? How am I going to manage? And what are the rest of the wizarding world going to think about their 'Golden Boy' becoming their 'Golden Wolf'? They don't accept me for who I am anyway, so being a werewolf isn't going to help matters any is it?"

There was a silence as Lupin considered the questions and how to answer them accurately. He wanted to quench Harry's fears, but also answer his questions truthfully.

"When you are at Hogwarts you will meet both Sirius and I in the Shrieking Shack on the nights of the full moon, and we will transform with you and stay the entire night. The next morning, we will take you to the hospital wing to recover if you need to. It is likely the first few transformations will be tough on you. During the summer, when you are staying at your relatives, I will come and pick you up on the afternoon of the full moon and we will go to my place where I have a room designed to keep us restrained. And Harry, if it is ok with you, we want to try and keep the fact that you are a werewolf a secret for as long as possible. We don't want Voldemort to know, as it is entirely possible he could use it to his advantage. Harry, I really don't want you to stress about it. We will all get through it together, you, me and Sirius. We won't let anything else happen to you."

Harry sat in silence, absorbing everything he had been told. To be truthful, the arrangements sounded fine to him, and he wasn't afraid as he thought he would be. He was certainly still apprehensive, but not afraid. It seemed Lupin noticed his relaxing figure, as he gave him a small smile.

Harry returned it full force, his grin lighting up his entire face.

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><p>Harry was out of the hospital wing within the next week. In classes, most people left him alone and didn't ask any questions about what had happened. And if anyone did look like they were going to ask him anything, Ron glared at them so fiercely that their eyes widened in fright and they walked off quickly. To an outsider, it would look like the trio were unaffected by the events of the past weeks, but to one who knew them, the truth was much grimmer. It wasn't uncommon for Hermione to disappear at odd times and return later with almost hidden tear tracks. Ron was angry at the world, and showed it by protecting his friends at any time of the day. Harry, understandably, was the worst affected. He hardly slept, would violently flinch whenever anyone mentioned Cedric, and had a sunken look in his emerald eyes. But he was making an effort to feel happier, laughing every now and then, and tried to socialize with people in the common room. In time, Harry would heal.<p>

But then, two weeks after the Triwizard Tournament ended and three days before the end of term, Harry became withdrawn. He was nervous and anxious about the upcoming night, and no matter how much he denied it, afraid too. He dreaded the hour when he would have to meet Lupin and Sirius in the Shrieking Shack, because then it would seem more real. He would have to actually accept the fact that he was a werewolf.

Despite his constant willing of time to stop, five o'clock rolled around with alarming speed. Harry was seated in his bed, slowly eating an apple. Remus had advised him to eat beforehand, as he would be missing dinner, but Harry could barely bring himself to eat half the apple. Glaring at the clock hanging on the wall, he finally stood up and made his way towards the door. Hermione and Ron had offered to sit with him while he waited, but Harry had desperately pleaded for some time alone so that he could think and mentally prepare. He had taken the Wolfsbane potion at lunch, bit could still feel it in his stomach and taste the foul after-taste. It wasn't making things any easier, having the constant reminder. Harry finally reached the common room, and put on his passive face so that no one would suspect anything unusual. He politely smiled at Seamus, and nodded to his friends seated in the corner. Hermione and Ron stood up and walked over to join him, smiling reassuringly. Harry tried to return the grin but failed, instead producing a grimace.

"Let's go." He sighed, as he walked towards the common room door with Hermione and Ron. The three walked in silence until they were outside.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked softly. Harry breathed deeply before replying weakly.

"Not really. But I don't have a choice, I have to face it." His words were strong choices, but held none of the required conviction.

**Please review, I have the next chapter finished and will post it soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N ****Hello again! I was going to post this yesterday, but it was my birthday and I got distracted... No matter, it's here now. Let me know if you find this formatting annoying and I'll change it, but other than that, I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer ****I don't own Harry Potter.**

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><p>Harry and his friends slowly made their way down through the numerous long corridors, with each step becoming less confident. The portraits that hung on the old stone walls stared at the party inquisitively, and some dared to question their reasons and destination, but Harry ignored them. He stared straight ahead, working hard to keep his breathing under control as the main doors became larger and larger. Despite his growing apprehension, he refused to show his fear in front of Ron and Hermione, not because of trust but lest they worry about him more during the night. Harry was well aware of the fact that Hermione would not get a wink of sleep in the coming night due to stress fuelled by him, and he doubted that Ron would sleep much either. The last thing he wanted to do was add to that with an unnecessary show of emotion.<p>

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by Ron's strong hand clapping him on the shoulder. Trying not to show the large red-head that the strength behind the gesture nearly knocked him over, he sent a grateful smirk to him before turning to greet those they had stopped in front of.

"Hey Snuffles," he greeted the black ball of scruff quietly, before kneeling down to pat him. Sirius took full advantage of the position, jumping up to lick Harry's face even as he exclaimed in disgust. Harry abruptly stood up, giving Sirius a mock glare before allowing the straining smile to break free. Hermione, who stood close by, laughed at their antics and was thoroughly relieved to see her friend somewhat happy after the gloom she had found herself in recently.

"Hello Harry. I trust you've been well?" Lupin said, critically analysing the lean teen before him. Harry nodded in affirmation before turning to his friends.

"It's getting late, so I guess you guys should…well, go back to the common room," he said in a strained voice.

"Harry, mate, you'll be fine alright?" Ron walked over and clasped him on the shoulder once again, trying to flood into him some confidence. Unfortunately, the act was pointless considering Ron didn't have enough of his own. Harry nodded as Hermione came forward, her eyes beginning to show the signs of brimming tears.

"Oh Harry!" She cried, flinging herself at him and blurry his vision with her uncontained hair. Harry awkwardly raised his hand to pet her in comfort, but stopped when it just made her sob.

"Umm, Hermione, I think Harry needs to… you know…breathe?" sounded the tentative warning, Ron smiling lightly at the emotional girl.

"Oh, right. Well, good luck Harry. You'll be fine, and we will see you in the morning, okay?" She said softly with as much fake confidence as she could muster, as she backed away into Ron's startled embrace. Harry gave his friends a reassuring smile, and uttered his thanks. Their support really meant the world to him, and he was shattered that he was about to turn his back on it.

An urgent whine reminded Harry of the time limit that was imposed, and before he could decide against it, he began walking out of the double doors along with Remus and 'Snuffles'.

"Good luck Harry," Ron whispered before turning to guide his sobbing friend back to the common rooms.

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><p>The next morning, Harry didn't remember how he had arrived where he was. He presently lay in the Hospital Wing, aching and unable to move. Memories of the previous night flooded his mind, and there was little he could do to prevent the scattered thoughts.<p>

_Harry remembered that there had been an awkward ten minutes in the Shrieking Shack when Sirius, Remus and he had sat in silence with none having the words to say in such a circumstance. None of them had ever expected this to happen, and all would do almost anything to reverse the path Harry's future had been thrown onto. Their silence and avoidance of the imminent night had been lengthy, only broken when Remus' eyes flashed up to meet Harry's, conveying such emotion that it was hard to believe. The young raven haired boy had stared back in confusion, his eyes asking a silent question as Sirius turned back into his animagus form and Remus leaned against the wall._

_Then it had hit him._

_At first, it was an uncomfortable tingling that ran through his spine causing hot flashes and dragging shocked gasps from his body. It had centred in odd places, such as the crook of his neck and behind his right knee. Overall, it hadn't been unbearable, just uncomfortable to the point of shaking restraint. Harry had rolled his head around his neck in discomfort hoping to relieve it somehow, and at his failure to do so Snuffles had curled up beside him, laying his heavy head on Harry's foot._

"_Sirius, I'm scared," the whispered voice had sounded in the silence, and it broke Sirius' heart._

_But there was nothing to be done. _

_The gasp of the grown man on the other side of the shack was the only warning before a pain so illogically excruciating had overcome Harry's shaking body, and the form of a boy had begun to morph into that of a wolf. Harry's spine had stretched, pulling on the tendons holding the vertebrae and twisting them around until they had forcibly extended. His arms had felt like they were being pulled in every direction possible, ripping at the muscles and bones in the frenzy to change. His skin had been on fire, but at the same time his organs had felt so cold he thought they were frozen. From head to toe, every centimetre of skin had scraped against his bones and Harry cursed himself for screaming as loudly as he did. Nothing had frightened him more however, than when those screams of a terrified teenage boy had turned into a wolf's howl of agony._

_The five minute change felt like an hour to Harry, and once finally complete, his new legs gave out beneath him in exhaustion. Collapsing to the floor, Harry hadn't even had the strength to raise his head and discover what he looked like in this form for the exhaustion was too fulfilling and restraining. His entire body had shaken violently, and small whining noises echoed the silence._

_He had been able feel the work of the Wolfsbane potion inside his body and mind as the thoughts and impulses of the wolf had nudged at the corners of his subconscious, unable to break through. And in that moment, Harry had understood why Remus was so grateful for the potion; the pain of the physical transformation was hard enough, the pain of losing oneself completely would be too much to bear._

A small whine brought Harry out of his scattered musings, and he shifted his lethargic eyes to look at Snuffles as he lay back down beside him in the Hospital Wing. Harry had been unable to remember when he had left, but his presence was appreciated. Trying to convey his thanks without words, Harry had finally given up on trying to control his frenzied thoughts and allowed himself to succumb to sub consciousness.

The next thing he remembered was waking up in the hospital wing, with Snuffles curled up in a ball at the end of his bed, fast asleep. By the sound of snores, Harry guessed Remus had been brought in too, but his head was too heavy to be able to check. Quietly, he self-assessed his injures.

To be blatant, Harry ached. Every muscle hurt to move, and he felt as though he had been forced into heavy labour for the past six weeks. His fingers gave sharper aches as he stretched them tentatively, and with closer inspection, the slight yellow colour suggested some magical healing of bones. His right wrist was much the same, although moving it was a task Harry preferred not to undertake again after the first analysis. His arms, while looking suspiciously similar to a child's artwork with only purple paint available, where largely unharmed. And despite the pattern of bruises continuing across his sore shoulders, Harry decided that this part of his body had escaped what he'd expected for a first transformation.

His torso was a different story. Large amounts of an orange paste littered his pale skin, covering what the injured boy knew to be deep gouges.

* * *

><p><em>After some of his energy had returned, Harry had raised himself to his feet in a slight bewilderment. Balancing on four feet was awkward, and as he had looked down to ensure that his legs were not made of jelly, Harry had seen for the first time the black fur that coated his form. Fear had bubbled in his stomach no matter how much Harry tried to push it down, and as he had begun to shake, Harry had looked into Sirius' cautious eyes.<em>

"_I don't like this, Sirius."_

_Or at least, that is what he had tried to say when a strangled whine had instead come out of his mouth._

_And that had been the last straw for the stressed and overwhelmed teenager._

_In a sudden fit, Harry had dropped back to the ground, growling and whining loudly. His paws had risen to his body, scratching and gouging at his skin in self-hate. Rolling on the ground, desperately trying to rid himself of the fur, Harry had been shocked when a dog and larger werewolf pinned him by the arms. Staring into their eyes, his hateful emotions had slowly drained away and overtaken by distraught sobs. _

_Sirius had cleaned his wounds as he lay on the stone ground._

* * *

><p>"Harry?"<p>

"Sirius," Harry whispered, suddenly aware of his weak voice. He watched as the human figure that had previously been a dog seated himself beside Harry and reached for his hand with a fond grin.

"How are you, Prongslet?"

"Prongslet?" Harry questioned with a small grin.

"Umm, yeah," Sirius said, embarrassed. "Just a little nickname I thought of… I suppose it is kind of stupid. Sorry, just forget that I said it." Harry only laughed in response, the sound making him feel better.

"It is fine, Sirius," he reassured. He was eager to say more, but at that point Madam Pomfrey came bustling over to the pair.

"Sirius! I told you the boy was not meant to be talking!" She scolded, pointing her finger at him as though he were a child too.

"I apologise, my dear woman. I was just explaining to Harry that he wasn't to talk if he could help it. Isn't that right, Harry?" Sirius said innocently, as he shot a meaningful look to his godson.

"Yes, Sirius. That's right," Harry replied, easily catching on. "Madam Pomfrey, I promise that-"

"Enough talking!"

The two men both bowed their heads in shameful agreement. Madam Pomfrey ushered Sirius out of the way (despite the fact that the other side of the bed was completely free) to perform a diagnostic spell on Harry to determine his progress.

"Well, Mr Potter, it seems you once again find yourself in the Hospital Wing severely injured. I hope you know, _Mr Potter,_ that if it weren't for me you would be without one of your arms, a foot and your mind would be completely addled! Not to mention all the other minor injuries that are truly too numerous to keep track of… You certainly keep me on my toes, young man," she said as she read through the results with a scowl. Eventually, after what seemed to Harry like hours, she looked back at him with a piercing gaze.

"Madam Pomfrey?" He tentatively whispered.

"No talking!" She snapped. "You have a severely raw throat, a wrist that is mending after a certain _mutt_ applied a little too much pressure, internal injuries that are still tender, and all the scrapes and gashes that I am yet to apply lotion to. If that isn't enough incentive to stay put, I don't know what is!"

Harry stared at the witch as she worked herself into quite the frenzy, her voice becoming louder and louder as she rattled on. His extensive time in the nurse's company let him know that she very rarely became so distraught. It also let him know that to speak and attempt to calm her would _not_ end well. So he simply resolved to wait for the rant to come to an end, nodding his head in appropriate places.

"Ok Mr Potter, you must get some rest. No distractions!" She snapped, glaring at Sirius who nodded innocently. As she turned to bustle off she looked back over her shoulder.

"And Mr Potter? That green potion on your table is for your throat."

* * *

><p>"She could have told me that before! Then all her scolding wouldn't have been necessary," the teen muttered as he replaced the empty vial back on the bedside table. Sirius chuckled slightly, although the fun and happiness did not reach his eyes. Harry stared at him questionably.<p>

"Sorry Prongslet, I never asked you how you were feeling."

Harry laughed without humour. "Yes you did, but I changed the topic." He chanced a look at Sirius, sighing when he realised that he wasn't getting out of this one any time soon. "Fine, I feel terrible - like I've been trampled on by a Hippogriff. But the potions are working; I'll be back to normal in no time. Where's Professor Lupin?"

"Sleeping. But the potions are wearing off; he'll be awake any moment." Sirius stared at his godson critically. He definitely looked bad, with bruises and cuts littering his skin, along with the faint glow of healing spells and lack of natural colour in his cheeks. But despite the physical injuries, Sirius was also painfully aware that the mental damage was going to get worse without talking.

* * *

><p><em>Padfoot had whined loudly as he watched his distraught godson become more and more afraid. He had looked over to Moony, who had also been watching apprehensively, for any advice. He'd only given a cautioning look.<em>

_But as Harry had begun to attack himself, both Padfoot and Moony launched towards him without a second thought. _

_Padfoot, increasingly annoyed with his lack of hands and fingers, had trapped Harry's legs beneath his paws as best he could. Moony had done the same, adding a small amount of his body weight on the smaller wolf in the hope of sedating him faster. Harry struggled against them for only a short while, eventually relaxing into painful sobs. _

_Each tear that fell pierced Sirius' heart like a newly sharpened knife. Ignoring Moony's protesting whines, he had layed down beside his godson, licking his wounds gently. _

_It wasn't long before the young wolf fell asleep. But Padfoot and Moony had stayed awake the entire night, watching over their charge protectively._

* * *

><p>"Harry, I think we need to talk about what happened last night," Sirius began, unsure with how to proceed.<p>

"Nothing needs to be talked about, Sirius," Harry protested. "I turned into a wolf, got a little scared, and then fell asleep."

"Got a little scared?" A gravelly voice said. "Harry, you attacked yourself."

"Professor Lupin!" Remus smiled from his bed with the newly pushed back curtains. He certainly looked weary, as though recovering from a bout of the flu, but there were no major injuries visible. This fact made Harry relax.

"How are you, Harry? I must say, for your first transformation, I would have expected you to still be sleeping." Harry merely shrugged. "Well, no matter. The sooner we get out of here, the better, no?"

"Oh Moony, you always did hate the Hospital Wing. I can't see why though, I mean this colour scheme? Beautiful." Sirius was of course referring to the white walls, white beds, white window frames, white curtains, and white everything else.

"Shut it, you," he scolded before turning his attention back on Harry. "Sorry Harry, but we really do need to talk about last night; your self-harm, to be specific."

The boy in question simply sighed, acknowledging the fact that it would be better to say everything in one go. "Fine, I knew it was always going to come up. To be honest, I don't even know why I did it. I thought I was prepared, and I was – to an extent. I had come to terms with the possibility of hurting people, the fact that everyone was going to look at me as a dark creature and I was even prepared for the pain. But when it actually happened; I hated myself. I hated having four legs that I could barely stand on, I hated that my mind felt different, and I especially hated that I couldn't talk. I didn't feel like myself, and I snapped," he said, getting quieter and quieter. "I don't know what I hoped to achieve, but I felt as though if I could just get rid of the wolf's body, I'd be me again." He chuckled. "Guess that plan didn't work, eh?"

His pitiful attempts at humour were not met how he expected. Instead, Sirius caught him in a hug.

"Harry, it's going to take some getting used to," Lupin said. "But you will, and you'll do it in such a Gryffindor manner; with bravery and courage."

"After all," he chuckled. "A crying wolf is a real danger."

He was met with blank stares.

"You people… it's a David Attenborough quote. He's a muggle?" Sirius lifted his eyebrows at the talking man. "Never mind…"

* * *

><p><strong>I hope it was ok, I have been planning the possible story lines for a while now. Please leave a review with your feedback, I appreciate it!<strong>


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